To Travel Both
by Ardatli
Summary: "You look," he said, slipping his arms around Zach and pulling him in, Zach's back against his chest, "exactly like you should. The hottest new artist on the scene, on the brink of massive success. Someday, I'll sell that airplane napkin you were sketching on this morning for a cool million." A sequel to The Yellow Wood, which should be read first for this to make sense.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: I still have trouble with FFNet stripping out formatting, so if a scene break looks strange, that's what's happened. All love to my betas, moonbrightnites and roane.

This is a direct sequel to my previously-posted Shelter/QAF crossover, The Yellow Wood, and is rated M for language and sexual content.

oooOooo

"I look ridiculous." Zach frowned at himself in the hotel mirror and retied his tie for the fourth time.

"You look great," Shaun corrected him from behind, appearing over his shoulder in the reflection. Zach did, too, the suit just grey enough not to look funereal, the dove-blue tie picking up the amazing colour of Zach's eyes. He reached around Zach and straightened his collar, leaving a kiss on his cheek – _smooth, just-shaved, the light tingle of Zach's aftershave on Shaun's lips -_as he did so.

Zach's reflection looked back at him, his brow furrowed. His shoulders were tense under Shaun's arms, drawn tight and rigid under the soft wool. Shaun tipped his forehead down and let his breath tickle the back of Zach's neck, the short, dark hairs there prickly against his lips. He nuzzled into the scent of him, the citrus-tang of his shampoo under the cologne-musk; no sunshine and salt-surf tonight. "You look," he said, slipping his arms around Zach and pulling him in, Zach's back against his chest, "exactly like you should. The hottest new artist on the scene, on the brink of massive success. Someday, I'll sell that airplane napkin you were sketching on this morning for a cool million."

Zach scoffed at his teasing, but it got a smile out of him, which is all Shaun had been hoping for. "Yeah, right." He leaned back against Shaun's chest, and Shaun could feel the tension start to ebb in his shoulders. _It's a start._ "It's just two pieces in a huge gallery of stuff," Zach said. "No one will even notice."

"In that case, why stress out?" Shaun asked rhetorically. He ran his hands along Zach's arms as he kept talking, dug his thumbs into the knots of muscle at the base of his neck. "Here's the plan. We'll go out, have a fabulous dinner on Brenda's dime, hang out with Taylor and his boyfriend for a bit. _Then,_ we'll come back to the hotel and make use of this fancy suite with the lockable door between us and the Codester. Tomorrow we go to the opening, and bask in your brilliance."

Zach considered it, nodded, but started fussing with his tie again regardless. Shaun grabbed his hands to force him to knock it off. He laced his fingers with Zach's and spun him around so they were facing each other, grabbed at Zach's waist with his other hand when he threatened to topple them both over. Zach laughed, their rings clinked together gently as their left hands locked, and Shaun grinned at the reminder of the new weight there, solid and comforting. He brought Zach's hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles, then turned to grab his own tie from the pile of clothes on the bed. "It'll be fine."

oooOooo

_Shave-and-a-haircut-_

Gabe rapped on the door to the hotel room, then shoved his hands in his pockets casually while he waited. It had been pure dumb luck that Larry had needed him to go out to New York schmooze some old clients, one more trip on the long list of places Larry had been finding to ship him. A little bit of good old Gabe charm had convinced everybody that this was totally the right week to do it, a small concession in the grand scheme of things. It might have been overkill to pull some strings in order to come all the way across the country to see a couple of paintings that he'd already seen a bunch of times in that closet that Zach called a personal studio, but it was the principle of the thing that mattered. And if he was already here, and on Larry's dime, well – that was even better.

There was some thumping from the other side of the door, and voices, and Gabe took a half-step back just as the door opened. Zach grinned and pulled the door back to let him in. "Gabe – come in. We're almost ready." Gabe grabbed Zach for a quick hug, looking over his shoulder into the room. Cody's eyes lit up from where he was hanging out on the couch with a comic book.

"Hey there, Codes – how's my main dude?" Gabe sauntered over and held out his hand for a fist bump that turned into an armlock that turned into Gabe getting hauled down over the back of the couch. He let himself be overbalanced, went limp as he fell, and landed on the couch on his hip with a thump and a grin.

"Hey, Uncle Gabe," Cody greeted him cheerfully from inside the headlock.

"How does he rate 'Uncle Gabe,' and I'm still just 'Shaun'?" Shaun asked as he came out of the bedroom, tying his tie. He was smiling as he said it, but there was an edge of something underneath that made Gabe's ears perk up.

Gabe kicked back on the chair and watched as Zach searched for his watch, not letting Cody escape. "He's got a point, short-stuff. He's the one you puked on at Six Flags, while me? I am firmly off puke patrol. Until you're 21 and hanging with the frats, in which case my job description extends to finding you a clean t-shirt and calling a cab. Vom-duty earns extra points in the uncle lottery."

"Because you're not my uncle," Cody informed Shaun casually, as though it were nothing new to say. He struggled for a second until Gabe took pity on the kid and let him go, a decision that was in no way influenced by Cody's stupidly sharp elbows and proximity to his gut. "You're my dad."

OK, so that caught Gabe by surprise. He raised his eyebrows, but Shaun's idiotic grin – and really, how were they even _related_? – proved that this wasn't a regular discussion at home.

"We talked about families at school. Roy's my _bio_-dad, but you and Zach are my every-day dads. So, I _had_ a Roy, and now I have a Zach and a Shaun instead. But I've only got one Uncle Gabe." And Cody, thankfully, ran out of breath. Gabe grabbed him around the waist and flipped him upside down over the couch, just to break any remaining seriousness left in the moment. Cody squirmed out of his grip until he landed on the floor with a thump.

"And thank god for that, Codes. I don't think the world could take more than one of him," Zach said, his wide smile mirroring Shaun's.

"Hey! That was uncalled for, don't you think?"

Shaun ignored the banter and grabbed Cody into a hug. "You're the best, Codes."

Cody squirmed in his arms, twisting away to get back to Gabe.

Gabe gave them a count of ten, then groaned dramatically, grabbed what looked like Shaun's suit jacket from the back of the couch and flung it at their heads. "Can the mushball act, dude; you're cutting into our bro-time."

"You'll be okay?" Zach asked from where he was kneeling and tying his shoes. "The local emergency numbers are by the phone, with the name and address of the restaurant, and we've both got our cells with us-"

"Would you please relax?" Gabe laughed. "The Code-inator and I have everything under control. Go to your fancy-pants dinner. Remember not to steal the silverware," he added with a grin. Cody jumped him and Gabe recoiled, curling his legs up to protect his belly as Cody attempted to pile-drive him.

"Thanks," Zach grumbled.

Gabe grinned, his smile one of the only things visible under Cody as the kid managed to get his uncle into a semi-credible half-nelson. It might only be for a couple of days, he might not see them anywhere near enough these days, but right here, right now, he was with his dudes, and it was all good. "Any time, bro. Any time."

oooOooo

Brian's grip was insistent, his hand hot against Justin's cock even through the soft cotton of his briefs. Justin rocked his hips up against the touch despite his better judgement. "We're – nnnng – going to be late," he gasped out, marshalling just enough willpower to push his hands against Brian's shoulders, Brian's shirt wrinkling between Justin's fingers, slipping under his palms.

Brian twisted his wrist instead of letting go, slid his hand up and over the head of Justin's dick, the fabric damp between them. "So we'll be late," he breathed into Justin's ear, his lips brushing, hot and dry, against the lobe. He licked a line down Justin's neck, Brian's teeth grazed the join of his neck and shoulder and then bit down as he twisted his wrist- yeah. That was about the limit of the resistance that Justin was willing to put up.

He wrapped his arms around Brian's neck and used his shoulders and the wall for leverage, thrust up against the insistent pressure of Brian's hand, the tips of his fingers brushing inside Justin's fly now, wrapping around to give him skin on skin, _ fuck, yes_-

The apartment door crashed open.

Justin may have yelped in surprise. Daphne stormed in, still wearing the fancy cocktail dress she'd left in an hour ago, carrying her shoes in her hand. "Don't let me interrupt," she fired off as she passed. She flung her strappy heels into the corner, and strode furiously down the hallway toward her bedroom. "Just pretend I'm not here!" she yelled as she slammed her door.

There was a moment of quiet.

Brian tipped forward and thudded his head against the wall over Justin's shoulder, his hand still wrapped around Justin's cock. "This is why you need your own place." By which he meant, as he always did when they had this discussion – _not an argument –_that _they_ needed it. Which Justin mostly agreed with.

But.

And there was always a but.

"Right," Justin said, then kissed Brian's jaw and disengaged, straightening his shirt. "And in that magical Land of Nod where we find an apartment that fits both my budget and your aesthetic sensibilities, I'm all in. In the meantime, I'd rather spend the time you're visiting doing just about anything other than apartment hunting."

"Speaking of which, she did say-" Brian said, reached out to pull Justin back in to him, but Justin pushed back and headed down the hall to Daphne's room, tucking his shirt back in as he went.

"Daph?" He knocked lightly, the drag-slide sounds of drawers opening and closing filtering through the gaps around the poorly-fitting bright-blue door. "Are you alright?"

The door opened a crack, Daphne's ironed hair and jewellery incongruous with the bra-and-sweatpants that were all she was now wearing. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and Justin winced at the sight. "No Andy?" he hazarded.

"Andy's a shithead," Daphne said, and he was grateful that the anger in her eyes wasn't directed at him. "A turd. A tool. The world's worst person _ever._I cannot _believe_ that I was so stupid." She closed the door with a bang. After a moment, Justin retreated.

Brian had put himself back together in the living room, and he raised an eyebrow at Justin's helpless shrug from where he was now sprawled on the couch. "Boy troubles?" and his tone wasn't nearly as mocking as it could have been.

"Andy's history. _Finally_. I never liked him." Justin frowned. He picked up his jacket from where he'd tossed it over the back of a chair when Brian had jumped him, and paused before he pulled it on. He glanced back at Daphne's door, one arm in his sleeve. "Maybe I should-"

"Daphne's a big girl," Brian pointed out, unfolding himself off the couch. "She can take care of herself."

"Don't worry," Daphne left her room, letting the door swing closed on its own this time. She'd pulled her hair into a couple of braids that made her look nineteen again, rather than twenty-nine. She'd added a baggy grey sweatshirt _(that had belonged to Jonas – or had it been Will?)_ to the sweatpants, and had an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. "You two lovebirds still have the apartment tonight. I'm going to Shanna's."

Justin touched her hand as she moved past him, gave it a squeeze and felt her fingers curl around his again in return. "Honestly. You're okay?"

She paused, glanced at Brian and then back and gave him a faint smile. "Yeah. I'm fine. I called her on the way home. She's got Netflix waiting and a bottle of tequila that needs killing. Have fun tonight…. say hi to Zach for me." Daphne shoved her feet into a pair of running shoes that looked a whole lot more comfortable than the heels she'd left in earlier, and headed out.

"Well, that's a promising start to the evening."

"Ground rules," Justin said, switching gears. There would be plenty of time for a post-mortem on Daphne's evening later. He grabbed Brian's hand, warm in his, and hauled him up from the couch. "This is a business dinner tonight. I know you're not Brenda's biggest fan-"

"Just because I notice that she's consistently putting her other clients first and not giving you nearly enough of the exposure as befits your genius, doesn't mean I don't think she's just _darling_," Brian said, pressing in close and dropping his hands to Justin's hips.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," Justin leaned up to kiss Brian and smiled against his mouth, the lips he'd relearned a hundred times over these past six months. He wanted to taste them, slip his tongue between them and explore, taste the coffee that Brian had been drinking half an hour before- it would have to wait. But a few hours were manageable, compared to the years he'd gone without. "Behave yourself. Zach's anxious enough about this whole weekend without having to watch my boyfriend and my agent going another ten rounds in the 'who's better for Justin Taylor' Olympics."

Brian sighed and gripped him tighter, then let go. "Ah yes, the infamous 'Zach,' and his boyfriend, the writer." He smirked at Justin's expression. "What? I listen."

"Husband," Justin corrected, sliding his arms into his jacket and straightening the front with a gentle tug. "They got married this summer."

"Of course they did," Brian muttered, quietly enough that Justin was reasonably sure that he wasn't supposed to have heard the comment. That made ignoring it much easier.

oooOooo

The taxi over to the restaurant had given Zach a little more time to work himself up (even as Shaun had been fully occupied trying to calm him down again). The blast of arctic air, accompanied by snow and rain and _god, was that ICE that was driving hard against his face?_that hit them when they got out of the cab, though, drove all of his less physical worries out of his mind on impact. The November storm had picked up while they'd been getting ready, and Zach found himself fighting to stay upright in the wind tunnel generated by the canyon walls of skyscrapers on either side.

A waiter opened the glass door for them and Zach and Shaun were all but fucking _blown_ inside, the rush of the wind in Zach's ears dying away as the door closed behind them, snug and quiet.

So the first words out of his mouth when the maitre d' guided them to their table, and Justin stood up to greet them, weren't any of the polite formula phrases that the extremely understated_(read: expensive)_ decor of the place demanded, but a hearty "dude, your weather _sucks._ How the hell do people even live here?" before Zach could stop and catch himself.

Justin laughed and grabbed his hand to shake it, not protesting the insult. "You get used to it."

"The hell you do," Zach grinned back, shaking his head as a drop of melting ice slid off his hair and splashed, crisp and cold, against the back of his neck. And with that, a lot of the awkwardness he'd expected simply wasn't there.

"Justin," Shaun extended his hand, and Justin let go of Zach's as he turned. The pause gave Zach a second to catch his breath, to resist scrubbing the melting ice from his hair, to look at the other two seated at the table.

The woman would be Brenda, of course. From the e-mails, and a couple of brisk, efficient phone calls, he'd expected a powerhouse, some size-zero Manhattan dynamo in a killer suit. He hadn't been far off. She was older than he'd expected, maybe in her sixties, with an elegant white bob and a wrap-dress that showed more cleavage than he'd expected from someone her age. Still, she was standing and holding out her hand and her smile was less shark-like and more maternal than he'd imagined. Zach found himself shaking her hand and introducing himself and relaxing a little more, despite himself.

And then there was Brian. There was no-one else the guy could be, all long lean lines and dark hair and eyes. He stayed where he was in his chair, leaning back and lounging, watching Justin and Shaun, watching Brenda, and finally turning his gaze to Zach. He was older than Zach had imagined, though of course he'd known that Brian was in his forties. His grip was firm when he leaned forward to take Zach's extended hand, and his skin warm and smooth, and there was an intensity in his eyes that narrowed the world until the only important thing there was what he was saying.

"The infamous Zach – I've heard so much about you."

"Same," Zach replied, every one of Justin's stories about Brian resurfacing in his memory simultaneously. Jesus; how did Justin not implode from the sheer proximity on a regular basis?

And then Brian took his hand back, the moment over.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it down to LA again for the wedding." That was Justin, chatting with Shaun, and Zach was back in his own skin again, pulling out his chair and dropping down into it.

"It's cool. It was short notice, I know. You'll have to take us out for a drink while we're here to make up for it."

Justin nodded and smiled, the smile coming more quickly and burning more brightly than Zach remembered from before. "We'll do that."

oooOooo

"So why the fuck," Brian asked, "are they getting married again, if they already had the whole circus this summer?" Justin's bed was smaller than the king-size in the loft back in Pittsburgh, but Brian had to admit that it had one huge benefit over his bed back home, as inferior as the sheets and general queen-sized-ness of it were. Right now, it contained a naked and thoroughly fucked-out Justin, sprawled loose-limbed and content beside him.

Justin ignored him and stretched, an utterly unfair move that left Brian staring at the play of the muscles in Justin's back and thighs, the marks on his skin from Brian's teeth- "not getting married _again_," he was saying something, and Brian tuned back in. "They're just going to the City Clerk's Office to do paperwork. They want to make it legal while they're here."

"It's a farce," Brian said, running the flat of his palm along Justin's thigh. "It's not as if California will acknowledge them as anything more than another pair of fags shacking up together."

Justin rolled away from his hand and onto his side, arching an eyebrow at Brian. "It won't be for much longer, though. The courts are fighting prop eight, and it could be overturned any day. And they've got Cody to worry about. Given everything they've already had to go through with custody issues and insurance, it makes sense to make things as legal as they can, just in case. You can't tell me that if you had custody of Gus, that you wouldn't do everything in your power to make sure he was safe."

Brian tipped back to fumble with the window sash and open it up a crack. He lit a cigarette from the pack on the bedside table and flopped back against the pillows, bringing it to his mouth and taking a drag. "You're going?"

"Sure, why not? It's not like they know many people here – it's pretty much you, me, Gabe. Brenda." Justin sprawled out beside Brian, resting his chin on his folded arms. The streetlight shining through the window cast shadows across his face, making his eyes hard to read.

The silence dragged out for a while, the noises of the city outside ringing in Brian's ears. He pulled the smoke into his lungs, let it sit there for a moment before breathing it out again.

Justin stole the cigarette from between his fingers and took a drag, and Brian frowned at him. "Do you think about it?"

The red ember bobbed in the air, Justin frowning behind it. "What, us getting married?" The moment pulsed between them and Brian hoped like hell that Justin didn't actually expect an answer to that. Because really, what the fuck else would he be talking about?

"Sometimes," Justin said with a shrug. The coil of tension centered itself in Brian's gut again, and he tamped it down, waited it out. "I wondered, once in a while, if we'd gone through with it – what the last few years would have been like. But then," Justin passed the cigarette back, Brian's fingers closing over his, the paper over the filter damp and warm, Justin's fingers dry and warm. "Maybe it was supposed to be this way."

"Fate?" Brian mocked. Because agreeing would mean that there had been more to that moment under the streetlight than one snap decision, and that would make things complicated. That he had been 'meant' to spend the last three years flinching every time the phone rang, just because it might have been- Never mind.

"Karma?" Justin shot back at him. "We certainly deserve each other. No. More like… time to figure our shit out. And in the end, six years down the road, we're still here," Justin pointed out. "Even without rings. So."

Brian finished the cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray, then rolled over in one quick, smooth motion to drape himself across Justin's back, and grab him around the hips. "That's not fate," he informed Justin, and fastened his mouth to the nape of Justin's neck. The tiny hairs there prickled a little, but his skin tasted of sweat and sex. Brian licked him, up the pale line of his throat, and stopped at his ear.

"No?" Justin replied, but the strain in his voice betrayed his effort. His hips bucked up under Brian's, rocking up with the rhythm of Brian's mouth, and Brian's cock was taking a definite interest in the round swell of Justin's ass beneath him. He sucked at the nape of Justin's neck, leaving another little red mark there.

"No. You just couldn't stop thinking about my dick."

"That was a big part of it, yes," Justin said, his laugh breathless and his words getting a little choppy in all the right ways. Brian braced himself with one hand on the pillow beside Justin's head and slid down and under his hip with the other, cupping and stroking Justin's hardening cock.

"Very big." Brian paused, reflecting on something, and grinned against Justin's skin when Justin bucked up insistently against him again. "We can put a ring on _that_, if you want."

"Brian."

"What?"

"…shut up and fuck me."


	2. Chapter 2

"You'll be okay?" Shaun wrapped an arm around Zach's shoulders and kissed his temple. The paperwork from the courts was burning a hole in his pocket, part of his mind on the twenty-four hour countdown until they'd be back at the courthouse. He knew he was supposed to be thinking about Zach's show, but it was hard to shift gears away from the signatures and the letterhead just inches away from his fingertips. The noise of the street outside the gallery faded away and for a moment it was just the two of them, at least until Cody made gagging noises and hauled on Shaun's hand to pull him away.

"Yeah. I'm good," Zach nodded, with a little more certainty than he'd been displaying so far. He shrugged, his shoulders rolling under the borrowed coat. "Set up and paperwork will take a couple of hours, I think."

"Take your time. Cody and I have some exploring to do."

"Niketown first," Cody informed them both, pointing down the street. "Then Times Square, then ice-skating in the park."

"Ice skating?" Shaun repeated, a little dumbfounded by the suggestion, then shrugged back at Zach. "See? We've got it all figured out. Go do your thing, and call me when you're done. We'll meet you somewhere."

"Don't let him talk you into buying all kinds of junk," Zach said, giving Shaun a warning look. It wasn't entirely without reason, or, you know, precedent, but still. They were on vacation – at least he and Cody were – and that meant treats that would otherwise be out of the question.

Shaun grinned wickedly and let Cody start to pull him down the street. "Relax, babe. Everything is under control."

oooOooo

Justin stood by the pillar in the centre of the gallery, Brian's hand solid on his hip. The reception had been going on for about half an hour now, the gallery filling with faces he recognized from past shows, from headshots beside column bylines. And there; one a whole lot more familiar. He lifted his chin to acknowledge Daphne as she wove her way around one of Carter's installations – this one appeared to involve six old typewriters and a balance beam.

"The geek in the white pants – the one who's been staring at your painting for the last ten minutes." Brian leaned in and spoke close to his ear, took the opportunity to lick it.

Justin shivered, and not just from the sudden shock of wet and heat along his skin. He'd half-expected it to feel strange, having Brian at one of his shows again; the first in four years. It didn't, though, and he'd had a momentary pang that the lack-of-strange was a hint that they'd fall back into their bad habits as well. But the concern passed when Brian looped his arm around his chest, his fingers curled possessively into the fabric of Justin's shirt, with the first bitchy comment about one of the gala guests that had made him come stupidly close to choking on the bad boxed wine, on the feeling of _good_and _right_ and _welcome home._

"Clinton Well," Justin turned and bumped Brian's nose gently with his own. "Writes the arts column for the Villager. He's a douche. He'll probably lead in with commentary about kindergarten cut-and-paste classes, because we're all under thirty."

There was a familiar arm sliding around his waist from the other side, and Daphne's chin poked into his shoulder. He turned his head a little to smile at her, her artfully-applied makeup concealing the bags under her eyes from the night before. There were grabbing and poking movements behind his back and Justin squirmed away before Daphne's and Brian's hands could launch all-out war for Justin Real Estate.

"Hey, Brian," Daphne poked at his arm one last time before conceding defeat and tucking her hand into Justin's elbow instead.

"Daphne. You look better than the last time I saw you." Brian smiled at her, and they shared a look over the top of Justin's head that was both gratifying and a little worrisome, as far as Justin's sanity went. Those two were an unholy alliance at the best of times, and had only gotten closer since Brian had started flying in regularly again.

"Tequila therapy works wonders. It's a good thing I don't have a shift again until Tuesday; I think I'm still drunk," she giggled a little and wrinkled her nose. "Hey – are the California boys here yet? I looked at Zach's paintings; they're really good."

Justin nodded. "I saw them earlier; Zach was showing his kid around. He's-" Justin scanned the crowd, not catching sight of Cody or Shaun this time, but Zach with another one of his guests. "Over there – dark hair, blue tie."

"Oh, he _is_ cute," Daphne bubbled, resting her weight against Justin's arm. "And is that Shaun?" Daphne raised her eyebrows, but Justin could see her eyes tracking the slightly taller man as he leaned in, draped an arm over Zach's shoulders. She frowned. "I thought he'd be older."

Justin shook his head, tensing a little despite himself, despite Brian's warm and solid presence, and Daphne's arms curled around his. "No, that's Gabe. Shaun's brother." And that should tell Daphne everything she needed to know.

"Jerk! You didn't tell me he was hot!" Daphne elbowed him gently in the side.

Justin paused, vaguely offended at the idea that her taste could be so poor. Granted, Gabe had a certain basic appeal to him – much like his brother, with the same 'if you're into the Captain America thing' caveat. And tonight, dressed up in a suit and tie rather than board shorts and flip flops… _was that a tie clip?_ He didn't look half bad. But he was still an obnoxious frat boy to his core, a fact confirmed by Justin's second stolen glance, Zach now smacking Gabe on the arm to stop him from deconstructing Zach's styled hair. "Seriously?"

Brian followed their line of sight. He gave Gabe a measuring glance. "He's not bad."

"Don't you start."

"For a hetero," Brian amended, but judging by the smirk, the comment was purely for Justin's benefit.

"I don't know either of you," Justin retorted, but he closed his mouth when Zach saw him, and waved in his direction. The two men were headed their way, and Justin retrieved his arm from Daphne's long enough to take a much-needed drink.

oooOooo

"So I know Taylor," Gabe was saying, as Zach steered them around a cluster of patrons and in Justin's general direction. "Tall guy is his boyfriend, right? Who's the babe?"

Zach resisted the urge to roll his eyes, elbowing Gabe lightly instead. "Daphne… something. She's Justin's roommate. She's like, Justin's version of you. They've been best friends since they were kids."

"A hot chick version of me?" Gabe grinned wolfishly. "I can dig it."

And if that comment sent a bolt of terror through Zach, it was only because of experience. And long, long history. "Dude, no. Don't go there. You're incapable of keeping a girlfriend for longer than six weeks, and Justin already half-thinks that you're Satan incarnate."

Gabe just laughed as they got close to coming into earshot, and clapped Zach on the shoulder companionably. "Have a little faith, bro. It's all good."

That didn't really reassure him. And the light in Gabe's eyes when Zach introduced them just made it that much worse. At least, he decided, as Gabe and Daphne shook hands and she grinned up at him with the kind of smile that Gabe seemed to be able to get out of girls as easily as breathing, they lived on separate coasts. How much of an issue could it be?

oooOooo

The crowd had thinned out over the hour that had passed, but Gabe barely noticed. He'd managed to keep Daphne laughing and tucked under his arm the entire time, and this girl - _ woman –_was seriously one of the cutest, funniest, smartest womento give him the time of day in, like, months. If not ever. And now she was leaning back against the wall of the gallery, the pair of them pretty much hidden behind one of the weirder sculptures, and her dress was pulling snug across her chest and Gabe's skin felt about three sizes too small. If there was any justice in the world, that look that Daphne was giving him meant she was feeling the same way. That, or he was about to get one hell of a bitch-slap.

"God," he groaned, even as he leaned in close, one hand braced against the wall. "If I don't kiss you, like, now, I think I'm going to combust. That's a thing, right? Spontaneous human combustion?"

"I'm pretty sure it's a thing," Daphne replied, nodding seriously. Her eyes were so dark that it was hard to see where her irises ended and her pupils began, but her lips were right there, red and full- Gabe leaned in and pressed his mouth against hers, closed at first, moving tentatively. She made a soft sound, one hand coming up to tangle in his shirt, and he took the chance to slip his tongue inside, to taste her mouth. She was so fucking hot and wet in there and he was sure that his tongue had a direct line of conversation open with his dick, because suddenly everything was all _hello, let's go!_

Gabe tried to keep his hips steady, not press in, not freak her out, 'cause that was coming on a bit strong and all, but the hand that she didn't have grabbing his shirt was grabbing his ass, and she was pulling _her_ hips up into _him_, and that was just about all the encouragement he needed.

There was a door in the wall a couple of feet away from them, off away from the gallery itself – bathroom, closet, office, fucked if he knew, but it was where they were going, hands already grabbing for purchase. The door handle turned – hallelujah! – and Daphne pulled him in and he closed the door behind them both before looking up from her lips (fucking perfect, and what would they look like wrapped around his dick? and-) to see where they were.

It was a small office, not the manager's, maybe for the accountant? With a desk taking up most of the space, shipping boxes stacked in one corner and a small bookshelf on the other side. Gabe grabbed for the lock and gave it a quick turn, Daphne's hands running up his chest and pushing his suit jacket down off his shoulders.

He leaned in to kiss her again, fierce and sloppy and wet. She tasted like wine and salt, the faint perfumey flavour of her lipstick under that, her soft curves filling his hands as he ran them down her body – breasts and hips and the hard rub of her nipples against his palms, lace and the silk of her dress between his skin and hers. She arched up into him-

"Wait." Daphne gasped.

Gabe stopped.

"Look-" she hesitated and there was something in her expression that immediately made him doubt himself, but – no, she had pulled him in here as much as he had pulled her, and- "You're single, right?" and there was a lot more behind that question than just double-checking. Hunh. "No girlfriend? Or a _wife,_ back in California?"

Gabe shook his head quickly. That was an easy one. "Totally single. I was dating this one girl for a while, but that was over in, like, March. A couple of hook-ups since. Nothing else." He played a hunch, reached up and brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. She turned into it, and he smiled. "We could go back, and ask Zach or Shaun, if you want – they can vouch," he offered, waiting for her to make the next move. "I'm a free agent."

"Good, because if you're lying to me about that, I'll rip your balls off," Daphne replied, the tone of her voice all sweetness and light.

Okay, that was terrifying.

It was also kind of ridiculously hot.

And no one had ever accused Gabe of having any kind of sense of self-preservation. So when she smiled up at him and wrinkled her nose, he grinned back. She rose up on her toes again – and man, if he hadn't had a thing for heels before, the combination of her ridiculous legs and those little red strap sandal things would make a convert out of him instantly – and kissed him. Her body was hot against his, lithe, tight, her breasts round and firm in his hands.

Gabe's brain turned the keys over to his crotch and went on walkabout.

Not much later, he had her backed up to the edge of the desk, her dress unzipped and bra cup pulled down, his mouth on her breast and her nipple hot and tight, rolling on his tongue. The little gasps she was making were fucking addictive, and he slid his hand up between her thighs, stroked two fingers along the damp fabric there.

He sucked hard on her nipple, her hips rolled up against his hand and she groaned, popping open the last couple of buttons on his shirt and sliding inside. Her fingers left hot trails along his skin. Gabe rolled his thumb in a lazy circle and she dug her nails into his back, little jolts of pain adding sparks to the heat coiling in his spine. He was so fucking hard that it hurt, his dick pressed against her thigh as she moved, and all he wanted was to sink into her, fuck into her, fucking _die_ inside her.

"Shit." This time it was Gabe who stopped, dropped his forehead against Daphne's chest, paused with one finger crooked inside the lace-edged leg of her panties, his skin slick from touching her.

"What?"

"I don't have anything. I didn't expect to, you know, hook up while I was here. Do you?" Zach and Shaun didn't use condoms anymore – and dude, don't ever ask him how he knew that, because that was one giant fucking trauma that he_never_ wanted to revisit. So there was no asking one of them, and fucked if he knew where the closest drug store was. _Fuck._

Daphne unwrapped her fingers from his neck, ran them through his hair, shook her head. "No, I didn't bring any. I – no." Her face fell and her teeth were leaving white pressure marks on her lip and he knew exactly how she felt. There was no way in hell he was letting her, at least, walk out of this tiny little office all undone and blue-balled.

There had to be a better term for blue-balled when it came to girls, but damned if he could think of one right now. Blood supply was a definite issue.

"Don't you worry, gorgeous," Gabe made a snap decision, shook his head and ran his tongue back up her body, leaned in to kiss her mouth, lick into it. She wrapped her fingers around his cock through the fabric of his pants and stroked, and he shuddered, lost his train of thought in the rush of _yes, that, more._ He managed, though, ran his hands down her body, scrubbed one thumb over a dark nipple just to watch it harden again. "I got you." He dropped to his knees in front of her, the tile floor cool through the wool covering his knees, her thighs above him, that triangle of fabric between them that really, really needed to not be there right now.

He slid his hands up her thighs, hooked a finger in each side of the waist elastic, and drew her panties down over her hips. She stepped out of them and he tossed them aside, ran his hands back up her legs again, rose up on his knees to press his face into her. He licked the crease of her thigh where it met her groin, let the flat of his tongue slide across that slick, wet heat and then circle the tight bud of her clit with the tip – _so sweet, baby, so good –_while she rocked up and bit back her moans so that the world outside wouldn't hear them at all.

oooOooo

"Anyone seen Gabe?" Shaun frowned as he scanned the thinning crowd. "We need to head out and I want to make sure he knows we've gone." He'd have loved to be able to say that it was entirely unlike Gabe to take off without telling them, but the closest he could really come to that was that it was starting to be unlike the new, pseudo-adult Gabe to pull that kind of stunt.

"Not in a while," Justin replied, looking the other way. "He and Daphne went off to look at the rest of the show and I haven't seen them... since..." he trailed off. He traded a look with Brian – vague dawning horror on Justin's part, and a smirk on Brian's – before Shaun started to follow their apparent trains of thought.

"You don't think they snuck off together-" but that wouldn't be out of the question for Gabe, and while he didn't know Daphne, Shaun had a hunch.

Gabe appeared behind him before he could give further voice to his suspicions though, jumping a little and ruffling Shaun's hair. Gabe was flushed and looked dishevelled, his tie askew as though it had been retied without a mirror. "Dammit, Gabe," Shaun cuffed him on the back of the neck and held him there for a second, Gabe's grin never faltering.

"What?" Gabe was all innocence, even as Daphne joined the group, the smile on her face smugger even than Gabe's, if such a thing were possible.

Justin was staring at her like she had two heads, and Daphne shrugged, her eyes innocent and wide. "What? You're the only one allowed to have any fun?"

"Oh, come on-" Shaun winced. Gabe would always be a player; that wasn't news. But here, at Zach's first show, and with Justin Taylor's friend – roommate – whatever? It was a bit much.

"I gotta bounce, dude," Gabe was saying, dragging his attention away from Justin's friend- and, apparently, Shaun's baby brother's newest conquest. "I've got this meeting for Larry in the morning. I'mma hit up Zach and the little dude and then go back to the hotel and crash."

He extended a hand to Justin, whose face had rearranged itself into a decidedly neutral expression. Justin took his hand anyway. "Sweet show, man. Thanks for having us." And then Gabe was moving, walking backwards across the gallery floor with an easy rolling gait. He lifted his fingers to his ear and mouth in a vague approximation of a handset, mouthed 'call me' in Daphne's direction, and winked.

Shaun glanced back in time to see the grin spread wide across Daphne's face. Oh _brother._

So to speak.

"Better?" Brian was saying as Shaun turned back to the group, Justin rubbing his own forehead with two fingers.

"Oh, definitely." Daphne smiled.

"Daphne!" Justin replied, shaking his head.

"Don't be such a stick in the mud," she scolded him, and Brian snickered. Daphne glanced toward Shaun and the glint in her eye gave him pause. He cocked an eyebrow at her and she patted his arm companionably. "Your brother was fantastic," she assured him, then turned and headed off towards the bar, trailing a vague sense of alcohol and smug behind her.

"This is going to be trouble," Justin predicted, his tone dire.

"Nah," Shaun shook his head with bemusement as Zach joined the group, Cody yawning and rubbing his eyes beside him. "Somehow, I think they might be a good fit."

oooOooo

Duuuuuuude.

Dude s'up?

Thanks 'gain for the invite to the show. It was sick!

Since when r u into art? But really glad u came

Hehehehe so was I

… shut the fuck up

Whatever punk. But if anyone, like, asks you about panties at the gallery? You know nothing.

Whut

Exactly. Knew I could count on you bro

No, seriously Gabe. What?

Gabe?

You are so fucking dead dude, I swear to god.

...worth it.

oooOooo

"Wait, where are you? And why are Justin and Brian there?" Daphne sprawled across her bed in the apartment, frowning at an array of nail polish bottles sitting on the dresser.

"The court house," Gabe repeated, his voice cutting out a little. It sounded like he was walking, and she waited for the signal to clear up again before replying.

"Don't tell me; you're calling for bail money. Did you get busted for indecent exposure?" She held the phone against her ear with her shoulder as she chose a bottle, and kicked off her socks.

"Public lewdness," he countered, and she could hear the grin in his voice. "Naw. Zach and Shaun are doing their legal-for-life thing this afternoon, and they talked Justin and me into bearing witness and signing papers for them. I think one of the justices is off sick, though, 'cause this shit is all backed up and we're going to be waiting for a while." His voice lowered, and she strained to hear him. "I think there's an entire Hells Angels chapter here. I didn't know that leather and tulle was a design statement."

The next came out in a rush, as though he were nervous – _cute._"Are you busy? Can you come hang out? My bros only have eyes for each other, Cody's been on a twenty-four hour Pokémon bender since Shaun got him the DS yesterday, and I'm not exactly Justin's favourite person." There was a thumping sound like a door closing in the background. "Besides," Gabe's voice returned, "I think he and Brian took off somewhere to – ah – kill some time."

_So_typical. Still, she took the chance to give him a little bit of grief, just because. "Are you asking me to a wedding for our first date? Don't you think that's moving a little fast?"

There was a spluttering noise at the other end, like he was choking on something, then a laugh. The nerves were gone from his voice when he spoke again. "If you're worried about what we tell the kids in twenty years, we can always call the art gallery a first date and jump straight to second with this one."

"I think we officially skipped both first and second entirely," Daphne laughed, leaning forward to paint her big toe pink. "Bases, at least, if not dates."

His breathing hitched a little and she figured he was thinking about it too. She'd barely been able to _stop_ thinking about it, since she'd rolled into bed (alone) the night before. She painted two more toes. "I'm available for special training, you know," he joked, "any time you feel like practicing your bunts."

"You think you're funny," Daphne stretched out her toes and evaluated the paint job, the smile now feeling like it was permanently etched onto her face. "But you're really not."

Except he really was. And cute, and ridiculous, and into her, and kind of godlike with his hands… and a lot of that same sort of reckless disregard for anything that had attracted her to Andy in the first place. Daphne stopped moving, stopped talking, swallowed hard against the lump in her throat and the queasy feeling somewhere in the vicinity of her diaphragm.

Gabe didn't seem to notice, continuing on despite her sudden silence. "You're killing me, gorgeous," he complained. Then, "aw, crap. They found me. Are you going to ride to my rescue or not? Dinner and drinks on me, after," he offered, hope in his voice.

She considered it. Swiped colour across her littlest toenail.

Took a breath.

Took a leap of faith. "Sure. I can be there in about half an hour."

"Awesome! You are, in actual fact, the best thing ever." His enthusiasm wiped away some of her trepidation, and Daphne stretched out her other leg, swiped the brush across one nail. "See you then."

oooOooo

How the fuck, Brian wanted to know, did he keep ending up at weddings? Mel and Linds. Michael and Ben. Debbie and Horvath. Jennifer and Tucker – and now Justin's pet protégé and his surfer dude, willingly signing themselves over into heteronormative servitude. For the second time.

The officiant was sadly unfuckable, a little round man with grey hair and a ruddy face. He was smiling at Zach and Shaun as he walked them through the process, the room three-quarters filled with other couples waiting their turn. The bikers clustered in the back were interesting, laughing and talking, most of them chewing gum like it was going out of style, the bride clutching a bouquet of red leather roses that matched the trim on her chaps. Brian filed the image away in the back of his mind, just in case he could use it later, then kicked back in his chair and didn't bother trying to hide his yawn.

"Now I understand that you two are already married?" The clerk was asking, looking over the forms Zach and Shaun had handed him.

"Sort of?" Zach shuffled, looked at Shaun and seemed uncomfortable at the question.

"In California," Shaun confirmed, "but until Proposition 8 gets repealed – we didn't make it in time for the legal window."

"You understand that this still won't be legal there," the clerk continued, his face arranged into a careful mask of sympathy and concern.

"Yeah. But once it is, we'll be good?" Zach's question was hopeful, _naïve_, more like it, but the look in his eyes when he looked at Shaun was similar enough to Justin's expressions from time to time that Brian felt himself thawing. Maybe just a little.

"God willing, young man. God willing."

There was irony in that statement, deep and dark, but the grey-haired justice of the peace was either oblivious to it, or had one of the best poker faces while trolling that Brian had ever seen.

Shaun looked down at the gold band on his hand, played with it on his finger. "Should we take these off and do the whole routine again?"

"Why not?" the clerk smiled. "Whatever makes you feel right about the service. This is your day, after all, even if it is the second time." Brian – first, making sure that Justin could see him – rolled his eyes. Justin made a face back at him, and Brian tucked his tongue into his cheek.

Shaun's brother was keeping half an eye on the door the whole time; or was he keeping an eye on the bikers? Either way, Gabe was the first one to turn and smile, when Daphne slipped inside and snuck her way to the front, sliding into the pew between Brian and Gabe. "How much did I miss?" she whispered into Brian's ear, and he just shrugged. "Right. Serves me right for asking you."

"Do you have the rings?" the clerk asked, up at the front, and opened his book for them to lay the rings on top. He fumbled a little, tipping the surface in what looked like a move intended to make it easier for Shaun to reach, but it sent Zach's ring rolling.

The whole thing happened in slow motion, the ring tumbling from the open page, turning in midair and catching the light, gold glinting in the fluorescent white of the courtroom. It landed on the carpet. Zach and Shaun scrambled for it, knocking their heads together. The ring rolled, spun once, landed on the floor grate for the forced-air. The entire room seemed to hold its breath. _The entire room except for Brian, because this sort of thing was a sign._

The ring toppled in.

Daphne made a noise somewhere between a yelp and a whimper, Shaun looked stricken, and Zach appeared to be on the verge of losing his mind. Cody had his hand over his mouth trying to conceal what Brian strongly suspected was laughter – _maybe there's hope for the kid after all_– and what had been, to that point, a reasonably orderly process, descended into chaos.

A minute later, Gabe was trying to lift the grate, the clerk was on his phone calling for building services, and Daphne poked Brian with a vague look of outrage. "Aren't you going to try and help?"

"And do what?" he answered, more than happy to keep out of the way. For now. "It looks like they've got everything under control." Or not, but hey.

It got less funny after a while, though, the promised rescue from building services with the screwdriver or magnet or whatever the fuck didn't appear to be rushing to their rescue. Brian cast a speculative look around the room, then rose to his feet and headed for the back.

"Brian?" Justin called out to him as he moved. "Where are you going?"

"To be a superhero," Brian replied. "What else?"

The gang leader at the back of the room was still lounging with his refined club of motorcycle enthusiasts, his blushing bride sprawled across two seats and flipping through a dirt bike magazine. Brian flagged him down, the smell of tobacco and dusty leather coalescing around the pair of them when he stood up, and explained the plan.

Five minutes, one tire lever, three broken screws, and a whole lot more hairy biker ass-crack than Brian ever particularly wanted to remember later, the ring was in Brian's hand, the rest of the bikers were laughing their asses off in the back rows, and the clerk had stopped looking like he was going to crap himself.

"Here," Brian pressed the ring into Shaun's hand. "And no finder's fee. This time."

"Thanks," Shaun grabbed Brian's hand for a real handshake that looked perilously close to turning into a dude-bro-hug before Brian stepped away, backed in beside Justin to let the clerk continue from where he'd left off.

"Rage saves the day once again," Justin murmured into Brian's ear. "Keep this up, and no-one will ever believe that you're a wedding Grinch."

"Keep that up, Cindy-Lou, and I really will steal Christmas."

"No you won't," came the murmur back, as Shaun slid the ring securely onto Zach's finger once more. "You enjoy unwrapping me way too much."

oooOooo

Zach looked around at the unlikely group, Cody and Shaun on either side of him, Brian and Justin across the table (if he looked under the table he was willing to bet that he'd find their missing hands, linked, but then he'd have to pretend never to have noticed), Daphne perched on Gabe's knee, his hands resting lightly on her hips. Zach's ring was back on his hand where it belonged, warm and heavy, and he spun it with his thumb as he reached for his wine glass with his other hand.

His eyes linked with Shaun's, and the smile he saw there, reflecting his own, enhancing it, was like… like a rush of heat and sinking into a warm bath at the same time. Zach was grinning like an idiot, and he used picking up the glass as an excuse to break away from the moment. "So, uh." He shrugged, holding the glass out to the others. "I'm so not doing a wedding toast, because, you know, been there, already embarrassed myself."

"It wasn't that bad," Shaun murmured, almost under his breath, but Cody and Gabe shared a smirk.

"Shut it," Zach said, and Shaun pretended to take offense. "Anyway." He searched for something to say, then gave up. "To friends."

Gabe was the first one to lean in, reaching around Daphne to lift his glass in return, clinking the edge against Zach's approvingly. "Dude."

"To fate," Justin added, with a broad smile and a look exchanged with Brian, who rolled his eyes. But he picked up his glass anyway.

Brian arched an eyebrow at Justin. "To karma?" he asked, with a lightly mocking tone.

There were messages moving back and forth there that Zach couldn't begin to guess at, but whatever. Daphne was leaning in as well, running her glass along those already lifted, making the crystal ring in a _GabeShaunZachCodyJustinBrian _symphony of bells.

"To family."


	3. Epilogue

"So what changed your mind about moving in with Brian?"

Justin's voice at the other end of the line was disgruntled, and a little bit peevish. "My _current _roommate keeps having phone sex with your brother-in-law. _Loud_ phone sex."

Zach cracked up, Justin grumbling at the other end in response to his laughter. "On the one hand, those are images that I never needed in my life. On the other, though, when did you become a prude? Or is it because there are girl parts involved?"

"Hardly," Justin grumped at him, and Zach grinned. "You try getting any work done when there's a bad porn soundtrack coming from the next room over."

"Poor choice of words, dude," Zach laughed. Teasing Justin was easy, and it meant not having to dwell on the notion of Gabe and Daphne and – no thanks. "On the plus side, they've lasted longer than any of us gave them credit for, so that's something."

He heard rustling through the phone, a scraping sound, figured Justin was prepping something while they talked. "What did you have down?" Justin asked.

"Six weeks. I never figured Gabe would break his streak on something long-distance. You?"

"Two months, tops. Shit. Shaun's going to clean up on this thing. It's unfair, you know. It's his brother."

"We're the suckers that went for it, so what does that tell you?"

"Right. Hang on; Brian's making faces at me. He wants to know when he can expect the boards for the Hudson thing."

Zach leaned forward off the couch and smacked at his laptop to turn the screen back on. "Tomorrow; the courier picked them up an hour ago. I emailed him the tracking number."

He could hear voices on the other end, muffled, as Justin passed on the message, then the reverb cleared again. "That's great; thanks."

"No problem." Zach glanced at the clock as he tried to calculate the time difference between LA and New York, then winced. "Shit – I have to go. I've gotta go pick up Cody. Send me your new address once you've moved?"

"Sure. Say hi to Shaun for me. And Zach – happy new year."

"Same to you, dude." Zach hung up the phone and hurtled off the couch, snagging his hoodie as he ran for the door. Cody, Shaun, work coming in – even if it was kind of nepotistic to be doing some contracts for Justin's boyfriend's firm, it was a beginning.

And a good one.

_Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—_

_I took the one less traveled by,_

_And that has made all the difference._


End file.
